The elevator ‘dinged!’ cheerfully and Steve plodded inside, eyes to the floor initially. He was weary from the recon mission he’d just been on; 26 hours straight of absolute nothing, for very little intel. He was looking forward to ignoring everyone else for the rest of the day and watching a game on the television. When he heard a soft intake of breath, however, he glanced up, and his brows immediately furrowed as they so often did.
Oh, God. Why him, of all people?
“Oh... uhm... what floor are you?” asked the Captain in a low monotone, attempting to avoid eye-contact with the prisoner of the Avengers at all costs. He knew quite well how much Loki loathed being trapped in the compound, much less by runes crafted by Dr. Strange and Thor’s combined magic.
“That depends,” murmured Loki, the pallid skin between his own eyebrows creasing faintly. Pale gaze swept up Steve’s form, and his lips twitched oddly. The Captain was uncertain what emotion Loki was attempting to hide, but there was certainly something there.
Okay, I’ll bite. “On what?”
At this, the trickster’s lithe frame shifted, fingers unlacing to instead rest behind him on the railing. “On whether or not you finally wish to address the elephant in the room,” replied Loki coolly.
Steve’s throat, suddenly thick, swallowed of its own accord. He tried to clear it, to no avail. “I dunno what you mean.”
Loki’s mouth twitched again, before a chuff escaped it. “Eh-heh... You are so very skilled at playing a charade when out on missions, Captain Rogers, but you forget who you’re speaking with.”
A grimace settled onto Steve’s features. “Fine,” he muttered, reaching out to the buttons to press the one where his quarters were. In his peripheral vision, the god of mischief smiled...
